Confession; Or, The Blind Heart. A Domestic StorySimms, William Gilmore
General
Confession; Or, The Blind Heart. A Domestic Story
Simms, William Gilmore
Domestic fiction
I will not undertake to analyze them, or account for those conflicting
sensations which make us shrink, with something like terror, from
the very object which we desire. At length the day came, and the man;
attended by his father, William Edgerton, and myself, took our places,
and stood prepared for the issue. I looked round me with a dizzy feeling
of uncertainty. Objects appeared to swim and tremble before my sight. My
eyes were of as little service to me then as if they had been gazing to
blindness upon the sun. Everything was confused and imperfect. I could
see that the courthouse was filled to overflowing, and this increased my
feebleness. The case was one that had occasioned considerable excitement
in the community, It was one of no ordinary atrocity. This was a
sufficient reason why the audience should be large. There was yet
another. There were two new debutants. In a community where popular
eloquence is, of all others, perhaps the most desirable talent, this
circumstance was well calculated to bring many listeners. Besides,
something was expected from both Edgerton and myself. We had not reached
our present position without making for ourselves a little circle, in
which we had friends to approve and exult, and enemies to depreciate,
and condemn.
The proceedings were at length opened by the attorney-general, the
witnesses examined, and turned over to us for cross-examination. This
part of the duty was performed by my associate. The business fairly
begun, my distraction was lessened. My mind, driven to a point, made a
decisive stand; and the sound of Edgerton's voice, as he proposed his
questions, served still more to dissipate my confusion. I furnished
him with sundry questions, and our examination was admitted to be quite
searching and acute. My friend went through his part of the labor with
singular coolness. He was in little or no respect excited. He, perhaps,
was deficient in enthusiasm. If there was no faltering in what he said,
there was no fine phrensy. His remarks and utterance were subdued to
the plainest demands of the subject. They were shrewd and sensible, not
particularly ingenious, nor yet deficient in the proper analysis of the
evidence. He acquitted himself creditably.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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